The Bonds of Family
by Kaoz
Summary: There's always been a plan for the Winchesters; heaven or hell, both sides want something from them and neither side is above playing dirty.


**Title: **The Bonds of Family

**Word Count: **6954

**Rated for: **Language, sex,

**Genre: **Angst, Hurt, Adventure, Suspense

**Fandom/Universe: **Supernatural

**Characters: **Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester and OC.

**Pairings: **Dean/OC, Sam/OC, John/OC

**Spoilers/Warning: **None, takes place somewhere in S2.

**Disclaimer: **Supernatural and all related characters are copyright Eric Kripke, Kripke Enterprises &The CW Network.

**Summary:** There's always been a plan for the Winchesters; heaven or hell, both sides want something from them and neither side is above playing dirty.

**Status: **Complete

**Dinah**

She has them all to herself. There's a smile on her face, gloating and smug; the heart shaped mouth is a deep red, even white teeth flashing quick at them. Her eyes are a deep cerulean with flecks of dark green, inky lashes and finely shaped eyebrows.

It's just another abandoned house, the roof leaks and the windows are boarded up but they always seem to make themselves 'at home' in such places. Her eyes skim over the 'living room', pause on their weapons laid out on the table within easy reach of either man.

They weren't difficult to find. They never were and she just sits there, watching them squirm. _She _is in control; always was and now… Now it was time for the 'big reveal'.

Her laugh is light and giddy.

"You're thinking about it."

She knows it, they all are. She can see the tense set of the old man's jaw, the anger blazing from the young ones hazel eyes and she lets her gaze wander over the familiar architecture of Sam Winchester.

"That night."

Her eyes wander over the old man again, cataloguing the differences since their first encounter five years before. She finds him just a little appealing but she'd liked him before too. She looks at Sam, muscle straining under the t-shirt trying to get up from his chair and those hazel eyes feverish and blazing but he hasn't said a word. Dean is quiet, she can see he's angry from the slight twitch of his jaw… and damn but don't they look better with age.

"What the hell are you?"

That smirk only gets wider and her eyes go completely black. She makes no move towards any of them, just sits in the rickety chair, arms crossed under her chest and taps her foot on the wood floor.

"Demon."

She clucks her tongue in mocking reprove, her normal eyes- the cerulean and green flecked eyes he remembers- rest on Sam.

"Pre-law. Really?" her sarcasm grates on their nerves and big brother looks ready to do some damage… Too bad neither of them can move.

"Alright then." She stands, smoothes the short jean skirt and walks around their chairs. "Who is going first?" she wonders, red lips biting on the tip of a slim finger. She has the look of innocence about her; the same one John fell for that moonlit night five years ago.

She looks like any normal young woman, brow slightly furrowed and there is that soulful quality in her eyes- same as when Dean picked her up outside that bar. She's a small thing, delicate and he'd come to her rescue…

"Papa went first." Her smile flashes quick and lightly taps her fingertip to John's nose, watches Sam from the corner of her eyes and notes the angry glare aimed at them. "Had us a real good time…mmm." She rounds John's chair, small hand skimming over his shoulder and up into his hair. "Did you tell them, Papa?" she peeks at the boys, both of them silent and furious but Sam… Sam doesn't miss the way she threads her fingers into John's hair. Its color is a close match to her own chocolaty locks and he remembers how the sun would bring out the copper highlights in her long hair. "Daddy dearest," both hands come to rest on John's shoulders, she stands right behind his chair and leans into his back. Sam watches her press her body against John's back, her breasts cradling John's head."Picked me up on the side of the road one night."

John stares at the floor, picks out the warped pieces of wood and tries his best not to _think_, not to remember and what he wants most is for the demon to _shut up._

"Didn't take us long to find a motel, did it?" she whispers leaning into his ear. She flicks her eyes towards the boys, both of them _know_- they have to know what she's going to say and Sam? Oh, Sam… he's straining against the invisible bonds, hands itching to get some blood…

"Daddy popped my cherry."

Dead silence greets the announcement.

John remembers. He can't forget about the girl- much as he might wish to. Hearing her say it out loud… it just makes what he did much worse.

"Papa got it on twice." She straightens, red mouth slightly pouting. "Before he started to snore again." Small hands shove at his back and she turns to Sam. "Selfish bastard."

Sam isn't amused, doesn't feel sorry at all about that because all he wants is to get his hands on her.

She grabs John's chin in her small hand, cerulean eyes on Sam and drops a quick kiss on Daddy's pursed lips.

"Fair is fair." She turns to the boys, back to John and ignores him. She's eyeing them both, gaze flicking from Sam to Dean and back, a slow smile grazing her lips. "Then Sammy had his turn."

John looks up in shock, eyes on her back and tries to lean around her, to look at his son…

Sam stares right back at her, hazel eyes slightly narrowed. He's pissed, she can see it.

"Jealous." Her laugh is soft and short, just a bit gloating and why not?

Sam can't help himself; he follows the sway of her hips teasing, just in front of him-

"Sam-."

"Quiet." She glares over her shoulder at John. His throat feels like it's got a vice clamped around it. "I'm not done, Papa." She lets him go, ignores John once more and his deep breaths now that he can breathe again. She cups Sam's face in her small hands; he's looking right at her.

"Just one more drink… right, Sammy?" because that's what he'd said, of course she goaded him and it was all so easy after that. "Bet Jess wasn't as fun." Her voice is just above a whisper, a little smirk playing about her red lips and her small hands trail down his face and over his chest feeling the muscles under the thin cotton shirt. "You were so much prettier to look at." She moves in, Sam has to look up and she leans into him, her face slowly bending towards his. "We did try some… interesting combos." She taps a finger on Sam's nose and steps back before their lips even touch. She looks at John again, well pleased with herself and the guilty expression on his face. He probably thinks he should have known, should have done something to save her…

"Boy has stamina." She winks and turns towards her last man. Sam watches her strut towards his brother, that jean skirt just long enough to cover her ass and leave the length of bare legs exposed to their view…

"But you," she makes herself comfortable on Dean's lap, slim arm draped over his shoulders and lazily skims her red nails over his shirt. "You were her favorite."

She likes the fire burning in his green eyes, the vibrant color and smiles at him before leaning in for a kiss. Dean pulls away but there isn't anywhere to go especially when she follows.

"Not selfish at all." There's that familiar expression on her face, the pleasantly fulfilled look and why shouldn't she be happy when all she set out to accomplish is done? "Plenty of stamina, mmm. Made her toes curl." She giggles, eyes on John who looks angry and rests her head on Dean's shoulder. He is so tense- feels like a damn statue and she frowns.

"What do you want?" because there's always something and John isn't stupid enough to think all of this means nothing. She looks at John, her mouth slightly pouting and it's all fake, that disappointed expression. She shrugs.

"Well, I've got what I was supposed to get."

A dark red nail points at each of them in turn and the damn smirk is back.

"One of each… So," she sits up on Dean's lap, a perky tone and questioning expression turned to each man. "How does it feel?"

The cerulean eyes rest on John; all three of them look confused, glance at each other in question for the sudden change in topic-

"You deflowered your daughter Johnny."

Oh she likes that, their silence and John's angry glare, the head shake of denial while the boys realize what it is that means. It's the horrified expression on John's face that brings it home for the boys, she loves their exhaled breaths of shock and she doesn't _ever_ glance at Sam straining in his seat again, makes him wait just a little more- surprised he hasn't said something yet.

Jealousy.

Who likes to share?

"And that mouth, Sammy…" she smiles at him. "You ever tell Jess half the things you told me? Your baby sister…" it's the first time either of them see anything other than the gloating smile or that damn smirk. She doesn't like the fact Sam found himself a replacement in her absence. "You fuck her the same? Hold her bent over and fucked her hard?" she laughs. Sharp and quick- it's scary how much she enjoys their pain, how much fun it is even if they aren't laughing and she pulls Dean closer. "She didn't make a sound with you, big brother." She shakes her head, red lips grazing his twitching jaw. "Papa had his fun and she begged. 'Make him stop.' She yelled and screamed…in here." A red nail tapping at her temple and she slowly stands. "Like a fucking brat- 'I don't want to.' Having her fit." She glares at John, like it's his fault the girl wanted to screw with the plan. "Said she 'changed her mind' ha! A little late- your baby girl."

"I'm- I didn't-." John can't get his head wrapped around what's happening. He can't allow for that possibility, he cannot have had another child. No…and yet he knows for a fact he does. He has a boy- safe with a normal life, the life he wasn't able to give Sam or Dean and they'll hate him for it if they ever find out. And if this is real, if that demon bitch is telling the truth… he's condemned another child to this hell he barely calls a life.

"Oh no." she laughs, glances at the boys, both of them angry, guilty… "Are you going to be one of those Johnny boy?" She rests her hands on her hips, cerulean eyes steady on John. "We made certain."

"We?" Sam latches onto that. _"One of each."_ He has a child. With her. He doesn't want to think of his brother or Father, what she did with _them_. Sam remembers a little of that first night. He can't erase the memories of the weeks after that; in the study room at the library, dragging her into the trees just off campus after her night class, in her dorm room… It had been his private little whore house memory, something to relive during life's boring moments…

"As in more than one and there is_ no doubt_." She is completely serious now. No more smirks or gloating, she wants them to know it's real.

"A coven." She turns to John. A little explanation will clear up his doubts. "You, Johnny, had yourself an orgy. Sad to say you probably don't remember much of that hunt. Do you?" she reaches into the back pocket and retrieves a little square. "You should recognize this one."

The picture is seven years old; the woman in it has long copper colored hair and her eyes are blue-gray. The resemblance to Dinah, this demon holding them captive, is undisputable. John can see it clearly and he remembers speaking to the woman, asking about the hunt he was working.

"We liked her right from the start. The witch knows what side to join and she's powerful. Actually, she volunteered. Not that I blame her." She looks him over again and shrugs. "Nine months later, here is the final product." She does a little turn and finishes with a pose for them to get a look at her, not that they haven't seen all of her already but hey.

"You've been in her all her life?" John's question puts a frown on her face but he's horrified at the thought of this demon possessing his little girl.

"Of course not." She waves her hand dismissively at him. "You must be getting senile, Johnny. I had to let her grow up," she winks at Sam. "Let her _experience_ life." They don't miss the stress on that and hope to god it's not what they're thinking. "Learn to walk on her own, play with the boys… yours."

Oh does she enjoy watching John squirm.

"This wasn't the only one, Johnny. Say it with me. _Orgy_." She laughs and they know she's teasing again, playing with them and all the while tossing out the truth because that's worse than lying on this occasion. "You see, Mommy dearest knew right from the start, all of them knew what was coming. And they chose the stronger side- because we are going to win. They offered us their babies, _yours._ Well, it wasn't half as bad as the other offers. And your baby girl was all for it."

Of course, Dinah hadn't known any better and getting away from the coven was a plus. She'd though to have free reign, do what she pleased whenever she pleased… But that wasn't part of the plan.

"Until we got in that room. Then it wasn't just a plan anymore, then it was real." Cerulean eyes narrow on John, like it's his fault and in a way he is to blame for Dinah's situation isn't he?

"She tried to fight me. Ha! _ME._" She leans towards John, a malignant smile changing the sweet expression always on her face. "All that screaming, wanting you to stop- like you'd hear her and it hurt. You… and you kept calling her name, hmm. But that didn't stop him the next time." She looks at Sam and Dean. "Daddy's conscience wasn't that burdened, even if she was only sixteen."

Sam jerks in his seat.

"She hated every second of it, Johnny. Cringed any time you looked at her and you did plenty of that... every touch made her sick and she begged me to get her out of there. Did you like the taste of your little girl-."

"Shut up."

She turns to Sam.

"Really?" her smile is pleased and she can see he doesn't care for it. "Sammy, you weren't any better than Papa Bear." Her tone is sweet but the words… She rests her hip against the table and eyes them. The soft pangs in her stomach finally make themselves felt and she rubs at the center. "You think she didn't scream?" because little sister just wouldn't _shut up_. She can see his shame- a little and they see it as well, they feel it too but with Sam there's something more. "I think," she takes a step towards Sam, cerulean eyes slightly narrowed. "She liked it." Her smile is wide. "You were a nice surprise, Sam. But I had to shut her up." She points to her head. "Didn't want you to hear all that crying and moaning- but then neither of us were looking forward to another nine months of torture." And she rolls her eyes.

"Nine?"

She smiles wide, please and now they are really getting it, partially.

"It wasn't all for fun, boys." She clucks her tongue at them, that damn smirk and Dean wants nothing more than to knock it off her.

She paces the length of the room, back and forth in front of them, eyes on each one while the men are forced to remain in their seats, frozen in place.

"We wanted one for each of you." That was the plan then they wouldn't have had to wait so long. Only they didn't exactly get what they wanted. "You'd of all had first taste." She smirks, her eyes resting on Sam. "Unfortunately the others were boys but," she turns to John. "I'm the only one left of yours, Papa."

Actually, there had been four squalling brats to start with. Two of each and oopsie, Momma changes her mind.

"Your boys had a terrible accident one day." She gives a careless shrug. "And the other girl- drowned, salted and burned. Momma killed herself right after. Easier than what I would have done to her for that."

The fire is what marked their camp and they'd had to relocate. Dead bodies tended to call attention – trouble they didn't need to be distracted with.

"So you had to share and your little girl bore three healthy squalling brats. 1, 2, 3." That red nail points at each of them in turn well pleased with John and Dean's horrified expressions.

"Why?"

Sam's question is ignored while the demon rubs the sudden twitch out of her face.

"He asked why!"

"Why not?" she scowls at Dean. "We could and did." She almost sticks her tongue out at him and that makes her pause.

"You're-."

"Not done." She snaps. "And those brats are certainly going to be a handful if you're anything to go by. I'm not looking forward to the bitching from Junior." The cerulean eyes rest on Sam. Already the brat demands more of her attention than she is willing to give. "How the hell did you do it, Papa?"

John glares, she's not seriously asking _him _and they all know it. It was always Dean who took care of Sam, the boys looking out for each other.

"Is she alive?" John _needs_ to know, desperate for the answer though he's not sure what would be best. To know that his… his daughter is alive, that she was forced to endure them- what they've done… or that she died and all that's left is the demon walking around with her face… There's no way to apologize for any of it, to make amends.

"Oh, she is. Perfectly healthy, Papa. Wouldn't want her any other way." She's enjoying herself and all they want is to wipe the smirk from her face, send her back to hell…

Sam does his best, pushes against the invisible bonds, feels them give and she's smirking at him. He's furious. His brother and Father yell at him but all Sam can see or hear is Dinah. She's still laughing when Sam knocks her into the table. It breaks under their combined weight but it wasn't that strong to begin with. They both roll in front of Papa and big brother; she comes out on top, smacks him around and leans into his face.

"Like old times, Sammy."

John and Dean are stuck to their chairs, ignored by Sam and she's having a good ol' time with the BoyKing.

"You were gone!"

Oh, the BoyKing is pissed and she feels it. The blow knocks her over and she's slightly disoriented though she shakes it off. When she does, Sam's got her leg and drags her back and where the hell was she going anyway? Why was she crawling when Sam is all she wants- well, the BoyKing. He drags her easily and she grabs his shirt, small hands curling into his chest. The tables are turned and Sam is on top, Sam's face just a breath from hers. She knows exactly what he wants; why he is so angry and why not give the Winchesters a show?

"Mine." He'd thought so then…

"Show me." Her eyes flick over to the chairs, smiling and Sam follows her gaze. All he can see is John and Dean and hear her telling them again how each one had their turn. "Right here, Sam." She's quick, small hands reaching down between them, fingers slipping beneath clothes and John is yelling at Sam, _ordering_ Sam to stop when she's got her legs spread for him and him alone.

_'Orders...'_ he scowls because that's all that ever comes out of John's mouth and Sam is sick of it, the reason he left in the first place. He isn't some fucking dog to be told to heel, not a soldier to be following orders.

"Come on Sam…" her breath whispers past his cheek, one hand wrapped around him and that smirk in place as she works him slowly.

Hesitation.

She sees it clearly and shoves Sam away from her disgusted.

"I should've known." Cerulean eyes land on John and he seems so relieved. Displeased is just the tip of what she's feeling and the time spent away from Sam has had its toll on the hold she had over him.

He feels the sting of her hand on his cheek and she sits up, shoving him off. Her blouse is torn and she plucks at it. "Still not man enough Sammy." She flicks the torn cloth and drops her hand. Her eyes skip over John towards Dean; they're trying so hard to get up but she's got them nice and tight. Only Sam is allowed to play.

The BoyKing is her favorite.

"Here I thought he'd be happy to get me back." She stands, turns her back on Sam and they watch as he gets up, he grabs her arm, yanks hard and she's looking up at him, a taunting smirk in place, eyebrow raised in question.

Dean tries to plead with him. He tries so hard to get Sam to think because it can't be him, because Sam wouldn't knowingly-

"Wouldn't you?" she takes a step towards Sam, eyes never leaving his. She knows firsthand what Sam is capable of and there is so much more…

"You left me." There's just a hint of hurt accusation in the words. That's all that matters to him right then, the fact she left. John and Dean's voices seem so far away, barely register and even then he doesn't focus on the words, he can't and all he sees is Dinah.

"Only because they made me." It's one more lie and her stomach clenches uncomfortably yet again. The briefest discomfort flashes across her features and the screaming voice in her head is quieted. She blinks and Sam has her against the wall, faces almost touching.

"Say it."

She grins.

"No." and her tone is taunting.

"Dinah."He's had enough of her games. She doesn't miss the warning and doesn't care one bit. She laughs, closes the short distance between them and brushes her lips against his.

"Make me."it doesn't take anymore urging to get Sam back, no begging or pleading, no need to convince him. He turns them, slams her into the wall hard enough to hurt the girl but the demon doesn't careand it rains plaster.

She can hear John beg Sam to leave her alone, to think because there's an innocent girl suffering and alternately yelling at the demon to stop whatever its doing to Sam while Dean somehow manages to topple himself over, chair and all. She looks away, to her audience and makes sure they can't get loosed again. She has absolutely no intention of letting Sam get away. The BoyKing is hers and hers alone no matter what the cost and nothing and no one is going to fuck with that as long as she's around.

"Mine!" there's no gentleness, no pretty words and soft touches. They don't like it that way. "Tell them."

Now _he's _giving the orders and she laughs though its cut short with his next thrust. Rough hands grab at her hips, lift her higher and Sam's chest is pushing her into the wall but still she won't do as he says.

"You're mine." The words spit past clenched teeth, he says so over and over and she grabs hold of Sam.

"Prove it." She'll goad him; cerulean eyes peek over his shoulder to where Daddy and big brother have front row seats to the show. She blows John a kiss while Sammy pounds into her.

They look away but can't stop from listening, to Sam laying claim and Dinah- that demon taunting him. Neither have any shame while John and Dean try hard not to think of theirs. Because John couldn't remember taking the girl- he'd dreamt of his Mary… And that's just not a good enough excuse. Waking up next to the girl- clothes scattered and the sheets stained with her innocence…

John shakes his head wanting badly to banish those memories. How many times had he and Mary talked about having a little girl; _"She'll have your dark hair…"_

_'What have I done?'_

Lying on his side, Dean's only option is to close his eyes on the view.

_"You were her favorite."_

And why wouldn't he be if both his brother and Father had been no more than animals.

_"…made her toes curl…"_

Dean remembers the clear cerulean eyes, both slick with water and the softly whispered 'thank you.'

Sam's hold doesn't loosen, he's not letting her go- can't.

"Had enough?" she pants into his ear. She's just begun to have fun.

"Say it."

She gives a little gasp at the sharp thrust of his hips.

"Will you make me?"

He knows she wants him to and nods. He'll make her scream it.

"Good." She shoves at him and once on her feet grabs his shirt. She flicks a glance at John still sitting and now silent as a grave. He wont look at either of them and she pauses.

"Sammy's a whole lot prettier, Johnny." The torn blouse comes off and she tosses it on John's head. "Don't go anywhere."

Sam shoves her towards the stairs, to the room on the second floor Dean cleaned up, his hand possessively on her waist.

"We'll be loud." That's a promise they both keep as her laugh filters down the creaking steps along with every scrape and creak of the metal frame.

John struggles, the flimsy blouse staring back at him from the floor where it fell. The world has gone to hell and he can do nothing to protect his children.

**W**

The gray light of early morning filters through the broken window. She stretches lazily, rolls onto her side and feels Sam pull her into his body.

"Where?"

She rolls her eyes, annoyed because she's told him they won't be an issue but it seems nothing she said or _did_ last night has made a difference.

"Dead. I killed them myself." So far all she's been telling the Winchesters is truth after truth after god damn truth. She frowns; if she doesn't start lying again she's liable to lose her demoniness. _'What?'_

"_Where_?"

She looks over her shoulder at Sam. "I _told_ you." Over and over and over and yet here he is, _still_ bitching- it's the one thing she could without about Sam. And what the hell does it matter _where_ she did the deed? No one is going to find them, no one is ever going to know nor are her brothers going to be missed. Like her, neither of them ever had a birth certificate or a visit to the hospital.

They are ghosts.

"Dinah."

"I salted and burned them myself." She snaps. "They can't come back, Sammy." She turns and that same smirk-so familiar-is in place. It bugs the krap out of him.

Sam shoves her onto her back, the bed frame creaks with the violent motion but she doesn't make a sound.

"How many?"

And now she gets verbal confirmation of what she already knows.

Sam is jealous.

The doubts are there and all he's thinking about, all he keeps hearing; _"Daddy popped my cherry." _ She sat on Dean's lap, she kissed John _and_ Dean, rested her head on _his_ shoulder.

"I like when you're jealous." She likes what that means and has missed the 'consequences' of making him jealous.

He hasn't been able to sleep for thinking about what she's done. With John and Dean and he wants to know about the other two. He wants to wipe the smirk off her face-

She blinks, there's the window and her cheek _hurts_. He watches her pink tongue lick at the cut on her lip and she looks at him, just a little breathless.

"All of you." She sees the anger flush his face at the statement.

Each one of them had a turn; John, Dean…

"You." It's all he can say for a second. "And the other two." He wants her to say, needs to hear it from her mouth because 'All of you' just doesn't cut it.

"I fucked them too, Sammy." She taunts him with it. Her lip stings a little but it doesn't stop her from smiling. "Every night."

Sam's fingers dig into her arms where he's holding her down.

"They'd come in my room. Both of them, Sam. You want details?" because she has plenty of those. She hooks her legs on his waist and pulls him, scratches her short nails down his sides. "I'll show you what Garrett did to us." She's got him listening. "And Nick. Just like this Sam."

"Shut up."

"Nick was always on bottom." She shoves at Sam, pushes him over and straddles him. The frame creaks as the coils stretch. "Every night and Garrett…mm-mm."

Sam's hands are on her thighs, his grip just a little painful and he spreads her open. She likes the pain, always did and the BoyKing is no disappointment.

"Shut up!"

"No." she's riding him, small hands splayed on his chest. Her breasts are in his face and Sam can't help but think; _'Like Nick?'_

"I'll -."

"Do it!" her hand comes down on his face, palm open and it's loud. "Make me!" her nails leave bright red marks on his chest. "Come on, do it!"

She's on her back with Sam pounding into her again. She digs her heels into the thin mattress and yells at the screaming girl in her head to _shut up._

"Harder!" she's not letting that whiny bitch ruin her fun because that screaming girl isn't anything more than a whimpering messusually easily ignored.

"Mine, you're mine!"

Sam's litany will eventually become tiresome but for now she'll enjoy it. The BoyKing is infatuated with her.

_"With _us _little witch."_ For as long as she breathes and the demon isn't letting go, _ever_. _'Get used to it.'_

**W**

Sam stands at the door. The sun streams in through the window, shaft cutting across the floor and to the demon lying on the bed.

He wants her.

_'Mine.'_

He can't think of anything else even when he's with her. It's not enough…because there's something in the way- two someone's.

Sam looks away, knife in hand and heads downstairs. No one can have her. _No one._

She killed the other two, the brothers they've never met or so she says but demons lie, right? She could be lying to him about that as well but Sam can't do anything about that. What he _can _affect, what he can take care of right friggin now…John and Dean. He can make sure those two _never_ touch her again.

"Mine."

The stairs creak and John looks over.

Sammy's barefoot, jeans hanging off his hips and murder in his eyes.

"Sam…" John's voice breaks. Those hell bitches have twisted his sons, they've been fucking with his family- Dean hasn't said a word. "Sammy-."

"Shut up." He almost says 'Sammy is a chubby five year old'.

Dean stirs, just a twitch and the vacant expression in the green eyes is replaced by focus as he watches each step Sam takes.

"Son, listen to me-."

"I told you to shut up!"

**W**

Dinah stirs, turns towards the sunlight and jerks back, scowling at the brightness of the day. Its quickly evident Sammy has wandered off-

"Fucking great." The button up shirt is on the floor by her feet and she grabs that as she heads out of the bedroom following Sam's path towards the stairs. She can hear them below; John is trying to talk to his son and Sam isn't having any of it. The boy can't get over what Daddy and big brother have done to _his_ girl.

"That's right." The witch did exactly as she'd been told.

_'Good girl.' _

She pauses on the stairs, waiting but there's only silence from the little witch and the demon is much happier than a moment ago.

"Everything is in their right place."

The problem with Sam exerting vengeance is that he's going to screw with the plan and getting rid of the Winchesters is not allowed. That's something she seriously hates about her post but… there are perks to fucking the BoyKing. Right now, she has to stop the bloodshed.

She notices the shirt and stops buttoning it. And when the hell did she get modest? She grabs the lapels and starts to tug on the material when guts cramp and she doubles over.

Dean sees her, the demon clutching at the rail.

"Get ready."

Dean watches her- the confusion quickly turns to rage.

She isn't amused and heads down. "You fucking witch!"

Dinah is pushing, fighting the demon for control and they stumble down the stairs to land in a huddled ball.

Dean's bonds evaporate, just gone and both Winchester lunge out of their places. Dean reaches for the colt in the duffel by the broken remains of the table.

"What did you do to her?" Sam demands, slashes the knife towards John who avoids the sharp edge and makes a grab for his son. It's a wild strike anyway and Sam is distracted by the convulsing demon. John gets Sam in a hold, barely able to exert any control over his son. They struggle, bump into broken furniture and stumble over the pieces of the table. Sam ignores the splinters digging into his bare feet.

She screams.

John takes the knife and that's enough for Sam to throw him off. His shoulder hits the wall; moldy plaster crumbles and peppers his head.

Dean aims for the demon, no hesitation in pointing the gun at the girl convulsing on the floor. He's not going to think of the girl suffering in there. He can't.

He yells for Sam to move but his little brother grabs the convulsing demon and holds her in his arms.

"She's still alive!" John chucks the knife. "Dean!" he keeps a healthy distance from Sam's long reach and watch as the girls eyes go completely black.

"What the hell…"

They don't know what's going on with it. There's a gallon of holy water and John grabs that dumping it out on both Sam and the demon girl.

Her heads thrown back, teeth clenched on a muffled scream and her eyes are once more that deep cerulean color. The same shade flecked with green that Dean remembers- its Dinah.

"Kill me." She can't live with the demon inside her and she isn't strong enough to come back whole. "Please!" she curls into herself and Sam is gentle with her as they both rest on the floor.

"What do they want? Why do this to you, to us?" John is hesitant, not sure if he should get any nearer to them and his hand hovers close to her head.

The colt comes down just a little but Dean can't believe what he's hearing from their Dad- what he's doing, questioning her while she's trying to fight the demon bitch…

"It lies." She manages the words past clenched teeth. She looks up at Dean, eyes flick to the gun in his hands and he knows what she wants. He's got the colt and she wants him to use it, wants out of her hell…

_"You're different."_

Dean wonders if Dinah somehow knew they would all end up standing where they are.

Sam pulls her up; they can all hear the soft muttering under her breath, a chant in words none of them recognize.

"Stop that." Sam gives her a little shake along with the order. "Whatever you're saying, stop it." Her eyes focus on him and there's a difference now. This isn't _his_ Dinah-

"It's stronger. Please, use it." Her eyes fall to Dean. She wants to tell them she's sorry for her part, for _allowing_ the demons to use her, she's sorry to let her sister down and so many more things-

"Get the book!"

It's an order Dean jumps to obey.

"Please!" she's begging them, can't hold the demon and draws on her own power- what's left of it. She's got nothing, not enough.

_ "Sister? There's another one of you!"_ the demon gloats, promises to find the other one and Dinah looses her hold. She feels it, watches as the demon pushes Sam across the ramshackle room along with John.

The demon stands, eyes black and glares at the Winchesters.

"You'll regret this you little witch!" it stalks towards John first. "I'm going to tear them ap-!"

"Exorciasmu te-."

Dinah feels the demons pain and jumps forward- takes control of herself and falls to her knees dragging in breath like a drowning victim as the pain washes over her. It's like a fire, feels the same as when John dumped the holy water over their heads and Dinah's scratching at the wood floor.

They won't do it. Neither of them will kill her- put her out of her pain and misery though it's not for her they won't, it's their guilt, their need to 'save her'.

Dinah feels the demon- it's tearing at her, raging because its being forced out.

"Please stop!" she can't help her own screams, everything hurts. Dean falters, the Latin stops and that's her only respite. She drags in another breath, forehead on the warped wood floor. She feels heavy but forces her head up, eyes on the colt- it's the only thing that can kill the demon. She looks to John; he wants to save her…

"I don't want to be saved."

Because she couldn't say 'No'. She let the demon have free reign, gave herself over knowingly… it's her fault and there's too much Dinah can't live with.

"They missed one. Another girl." Dinah grunts, doubles over breathless at the sharp pain tearing through her chest and stomach. "They don't know-." She does her best to keep the demon locked down. "They'll find her!" and Dinah tried to warn her already but she is stubborn. There's been no chance to contact her in the past year either and if the demon gets its way…. "Save her."

John knows that look. He's seen it plenty in the last twenty-five years.

"No!"

The colt slides across the room, skips and rolls straight into her hand. John lunges towards her, grabs at her tiny wrist and clamps his hand. They struggle for control of the gun but she gets the barrel aimed at her chest. Her eyes are silver- bright and she's incredibly strong for a skinny girl.

"Sorry."

John has no time to reply and the echo is loud, it vibrates through the air. Dean is shocked, the journal falls from his hands and he moves towards them, too late to help and Sam barrels into him. They hit the ground, dust puffing up from the boards and Sam is _heavy_.

John watches the flicker of lightning flashes through the young woman he gently cradles in his arms. He wipes a tear from her cheek and the cerulean eyes focus on him, her lips move- voice so soft John almost misses the last words his unknown daughter speaks.

Sam feels lightheaded, the fist coming at Dean's face stops. Sam's ears pop, sounds are clear now that the filter he'd been listening to the world through is gone.

"Sam?" Dean has a fist ready to clock him with and Sam stares at his brother. It takes a second but when the chips fall in place Sam quickly released the hold he has on Dean's shirt and scrambles off his brother.

"I- I- couldn't- I-." he shakes his head but he can't deny what he did, that he _wanted_ to, every single time and what he's done…

"It was some voodoo krap." Dean says it, the words automatically reassuring but he can't manage to make himself believe it. Sam just nods but he doesn't look at them and both know they can't ever forget what's done.

Dean leaves Sam alone, walks to where John is kneeling with Dinah. Her blood is soaked into John's shirt- they all have her blood on their hands…

"What did she say?"

John looks over at Sam, for a moment the boys see exactly what their Father is feeling- they see a man dealing with the loss of a child, _his _child… and then it's the familiar façade.

"Did you hear her?"

John gets up with the dead girl in his arms. He heads for the door without a glance at his boys.

"Artemis."

That's her name.

"Hyperion Hotel."

And hopefully that's where they will find her.

Dean stares at his Father's retreating figure questioning what their next step will be considering what's still to come but first, first they will help salt and burn their baby sister.

** W**

**_AN: Not much of a sister fic person for the Winchesters but this just wouldn't leave me alone and I had to write it up. Don't know what got into me- this is so not my usual bit of fun and fluff though I have to admit I kinda had fun screwing with the men._**

**_Lol. 'screwing' _**

**_Anyway, perversity is new to me and somehow I don't think I'll be venturing this way again._**


End file.
